


vitally

by zoyanazya



Category: Among Us (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I thought I'd post this anyway because I liked some of the writing, Incomplete, Maybe I'll come back to it one day but idk, So I started this when among us was popular and thought I'd finish it, abandoned, enjoy lol, originally multichapter but now all in one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:21:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28125285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zoyanazya/pseuds/zoyanazya
Summary: [abandoned] Pink wakes up with a knife in her pocket. Black tells her if they want to survive, she'll have to kill.
Relationships: Black/Pink (Among Us)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	vitally

**Author's Note:**

> Again, unfinished, but could possibly be seen as open ended? Thought I'd post it just in case someone's interested. I was inspired by some fan art that I saw on TikTok that I now cannot find (I've looked). Black/Pink, Imposter/Imposter. Black is bi but it's not in the story because I didn't get to it.

Everything is dark and the world around her is shaking.

“You must be new here,” sounds a voice to her left. 

She can’t see who has spoken, so she doesn’t respond. 

She decides that she will simply wait for her eyes to adjust, but there’s something different about the darkness that surrounds her. It makes her feel claustrophobic. For a split second she’s afraid she’s gone blind. She reaches up to wipe her eyes, only to find a cool metal surface where her face should be. She’s wearing some sort of helmet. 

She tries to pull the helmet off, hoping that’s what's stopping her vision, but it doesn’t budge. She yanks harder. Still nothing. She can’t stop herself from panicking. Her breathing is so heavy that the voice must have heard her, and, having confirmation that she’s there, speaks again. 

“That won’t work,” the voice says. 

“What?” she sputters, still completely blind. She can hear her heart thumping in her ears. 

“If you’re trying to take off your suit, that won’t work. At least not until we get there,” the voice says. She can’t tell if it can see her. It doesn’t seem like it knows what she’s doing. 

“Get where?” she asks softly. 

A new voice echoes through the dark. “Be quiet,” it says. She jumps. She’d assumed she was alone except for the first voice. How many of them were there? “Don’t talk to the new ones, they’ll figure it out eventually.” 

No one speaks. They listen to the second voice. 

“Get where?” she asks again, louder this time. 

The room is silent for a moment longer, before the first voice speaks again: 

“The Skeld.” 

The world stops shaking with a thud. The lights click on and she can see again. She looks around frantically. Directly to her left, the owner of the first voice is wearing a black space suit. Surrounding them are eight or nine others, all in different colors. She looks down at her own suit to find herself dressed in a shade of bright pink. 

_ This is bizarre,  _ she thinks. 

People around her begin to take off their helmets. They’re all very pretty, objectively speaking, but their faces are hardened. The boy in black is the only one to smile at her. Charming, she thinks, but she only trusts herself. 

She takes off her own helmet. She shakes out her hair. Upon taking a strand between her fingers, she discovers it’s blond and wavy. Funny. She hadn’t remembered what it looked like. 

She looks over to the boy in black, who winks. She quickly looks away. She doesn’t even know him. She doesn’t want to know him. 

“Pink, you’re with me,” says a girl in a dark green suit. Before she can respond, the girl has already started jogging towards a hallway to their right. 

Pink glances around her, looking for some sort of direction. The boy in black is gone. There are only a few left surrounding the entrance to what she can now see was a drop ship. They are gathered in a group, whispering. 

She runs after the girl in green, who’s already halfway around the corner.

“Hey!” she says. The girl doesn’t answer; her eyes are trained on her tablet. She’s still speed-walking so quickly that Pink has to jog to keep up. 

“Hey, Green!” she repeats, “What’s going on here? I don’t know where I am.” 

“Yeah, I figured,” Green says, not glancing up. “when I heard you freaking out in the dropship. That’s why I thought I could teach you how to do things before you get yourself killed.” 

“Get myself killed? By what?” 

“Ever heard of an Impostor?” She didn’t respond. She didn’t even know where she was and now she was facing the prospect of an early death. “They’re stuck on this ship, just like you and me. The difference is the only way they’re getting out is by killing us first. See, now you  _ know _ I’m safe to be around because if I were an Impostor, I’d have killed you already.” 

Green pauses for a moment. “You’d be a very easy kill,” she says matter-of-factly. 

Pink’s voice is hollow when she speaks again. “So what do we have to do to make sure that doesn’t happen?” 

“Pull out your tablet,” Green says, eyes once again trained on her own tablet. “It should be in your right hand pocket. Now, your tablet will only open for you, but you should see a list of tasks that need doing. Once you get those done, we can-” 

Green stops as she takes in Pink’s expression. “What’s the problem?” she says slowly. 

“I don’t- there’s no list here,” Pink responds. 

Green stops dead in her tracks. Her voice is a whisper. “I didn’t think you- I didn’t think  _ you  _ could be an Impostor.” She spits the last word. 

“I’m really sorry about this. But you never would have made it, anyways.” Green says before turning on her heel and sprinting back in the direction from which they came. 

She almost makes it, too. She’s about a hundred feet from the entrance to the cafeteria- from what Pink has yet to realize is an emergency button, when the boy in black stops her dead in her tracks. 

There’s a muffled gunshot, and Green is dead on the floor. 

Pink is about to scream when Black’s gloved hand covers her mouth. His gun is pressed against her ribs. 

His breath is ragged when he speaks. “Had to use a gun because you set her off not ten minutes after we landed. Should’ve used a knife. Quieter, you know. But it looks like you were planning on screaming anyway, so it wouldn’t have made much a difference.” 

There’s something so effortless, so strangely  _ casual  _ about the way he says it. A chill travels up her spine. 

He looks her up and down. “You  _ aren’t _ going to scream, are you?” He prods her with the gun. “Because that would make Green’s death to save your worthless little life rather wasteful, don’t you think?” 

Pink shakes her head vehemently. She can’t believe she ever thought this boy was charming. She can’t believe she’d trusted him just because he’d spoken to her first when she was lost in the dark. But then again, he had saved her life, presumably. She wasn’t sure what would have happened if Green pressed that button, but it couldn’t have been good for her. Yes, Green knew something, that was certain. Still, if she had to choose between Green being dead or alive, she would choose alive a thousand times. 

Black releases his grip around her mouth, but keeps the gun trained on her. “Get in,” he says. He gestures to a small metal vent on the floor.

"...In there?" she says, daring to speak.

"I can still shoot you, you know. Or slit your throat when you least expect it."

She gets the message. She pulls open the vent and slides herself in silently. She's surprised to find herself drop down a good five feet. It's more spacious than the tiny opening implied; she's able to prop herself up on her hands so she isn't completely flat against the ground.

She starts to shimmy through the vent as quickly as she can, trying to put as much space between herself and Black as possible.

Black drops down after her with a thud, pulling the vent closed behind him. He flops on his back, his feet facing her. "God, I miss Mattie."

Pink stops and leans back against the wall with her knees against her chest. She isn't sure why she chooses to stay. But she does.

"Why did you do that?" she asks finally.

He cracks a smile and shakes his head. "You know, I followed you at first because I thought you'd be an easy kill. And then..." he laughs again. "And then, you couldn't keep your mouth shut for five minutes before you gave yourself away. So, you killed Green, not me."

Pink narrows her eyes. "Don't pretend you weren't planning on killing her anyway."

He only confirms her suspicions. "You're a fast learner. That's good. Maybe I'll let you stick around after all. I could do this myself, but I'd rather not, if I've got the choice."

"So you need my help," she says.

"Maybe I do," he replies.

He pauses for a moment when she doesn't respond. Then he sits up as far as he can without hitting his head, so much so that the static of his hair has stuck to the ceiling. 

"Look... no one's been straight with you since you got here, but I'll do it now. I won't hold your hand and tell you it will all be okay, because it won't. And I won't give you some sugar coated version of the truth where you get out of this perfectly sane and go home to your mommy before nightfall. We're impostors. The only way that we're getting out of here is when everyone else is dead. And even then, we never escape. We kill all of these crewmates, and then its on to the next ship where we kill all of them. All of this is so we can survive. So if you'd rather throw yourself out of an airlock than live this life, that's fine. But I'm not letting you bring me down with you. Do you understand?"

Pink nods. She feels like he has a gun to her head all over again, even though she can see it laying at his side.

He must have seen where she was looking. "I guess you've realized you don't have a choice. You're either in or out. Dead or alive. Impostor or nothing."

And then he grins again.

He's a psychopath. "I'm in," she says.

She doesn't know what happens now, now that she has aligned herself with a murderer.

"So, do you have a name?" Black says, breaking the silence.

"I don't know," she admits. She'd never really thought about it. She scores her brain. "I think so. It's there, but... but it's not, at the same time." 

"You'll remember, eventually. It takes a while."

She hopes so. She feels strangely empty, though she hadn’t noticed until now. She turns the question, "What about you? Do you have a name?" she asks.

"I do," he says simply. 

"What is it?"

He considers this for a moment. "I'll tell you if we survive this."

So neither of them, for the time being, had a name, a real name to hold a part of their identity, which made everything about themselves easier to process. It’s better this way, she told herself. She could be a killer first and a person second. Still, though she tried to push the thought from her mind, she knew she longed to be known and to know herself. 

“Who’s Mattie?” she asks, as though the presence of another’s name could replace her own. 

“Mattie... When did I say anything about Mattie?” he says, suddenly annoyed at her. 

“You said you missed her,” she responds. “Earlier, after we dropped in here.” She wonders if she should have left it alone. Some things are better left buried, as Mattie is almost certainly dead. But from a more practical standpoint, she feels safer knowing as much about Black as possible.

“He was the other impostor— two before you.” 

“Oh.” Something is strange about Mattie. Or, something is strange about Black when he speaks of him. 

But then he’s back to normal as if nothing had ever happened. As if Mattie was just a boy he’d known many years ago and hardly cared to remember. 

“Yeah,” he says, and shakes his head. “Mattie, short for Matthias. I asked him if it was short for Matthew, but it wasn’t.” 

***

Everything is dark and the world around her is completely still, save for the quiet hum of the reactor. She wakes up shivering. The vents must have begun to filter cold air in the night. It’s turned her nose as pink as her suit. 

Now that she’s awake, she’s faced with a problem that couldn’t affect her in dreams. She’s stuck in an impossible situation with only a murderer on her side. And, just six feet above them, Green’s body is rotting on the floor. Well, they’re further away now. Black had insisted they put distance between themselves and the body before they could sleep. 

She looks over at Black. He’s completely still in his sleep, so still that she thinks for a moment he might be dead. The steady rise and fall of his chest reassures her. 

Just as she’s wondering if she should wake him, a blaring alarm sounds through the vents. Her hands fly to her ears. 

Black’s eyes dart open, as if he’d never been asleep at all. 

“They found her.” 

He unzips his suit and tucks the gun inside the inner pocket. She catches a glimpse of at least a dozen different weapons, all neatly folded into small black loops. He tosses her a small silver knife. 

“I don’t know if you can aim yet, but if you survive, you can try a throwing star,” he explains as if this should be motivation enough. 

She smiles because that’s the way he is, and maybe smiling will make her understand him. 

“I’ll leave first for caf. Count to sixty and then follow. And remember, we don’t know each other. You’re just a little girl who has no clue what’s going on.” 

She nods, but he’s not even looking. He pokes his head out of the vent, and when the coast is clear, he pulls himself up. 

She begins to count down from sixty. 

She clutches the smooth silver knife. 

_ 57, 56, 55.  _

She runs her fingers along the tip of the blade. It’s sharp, so sharp she can picture him slicing someone open.

_ 46, 45, 44.  _

She pictures him driving the knife into someone’s heart. 

_ 38, 37.  _

She wonders who will be next. Probably whoever is unlucky enough to suspect him first. 




Maybe it will be her. Maybe she’ll slip up, or she’ll get him caught, or she’ll say something that makes her dangerous to him. 

_ 15, 14.  _

She pictures him shooting her with that gun, the one that’s so clearly his favorite. 

_ 10, 9, 8. _

She won’t let it happen. 

_ 7, 6.  _

She won’t be a danger to him. She’ll be smart, but not a threat. She’ll be kind, but not dependent. 

_ 5, 4. _

But if it comes down to it, it’s not likely they can both survive. 

_ 3, 2.  _

And she’s not ready to die. 

_ 1 _ .


End file.
